


Odd

by ValiantBarnes (Cimila)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Biting, Blood, Developing Relationship, Jealousy, M/M, Marking, Original Character Death(s), Possessive Behavior, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 02:24:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5988907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cimila/pseuds/ValiantBarnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are four ambassadors and four ambassadors aides on Hux's ship. He honestly prefers Ren.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Odd

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unfortunette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfortunette/gifts).



> This is for rianofski, for the Kylux Feb Fic Exchange. I hope you like it! Happy Valentines Day!

When the Master of the Knights of Ren stalked down a corridor, covered head to toe in black, masked and dangerous, there was not a single visiting dignitary that did not step back. From simple nerves to pure fear, all it showed was weakness. Kylo Ren did not frighten Hux, did not inspire any sort of fear in his heart. Annoyance, certainly. Anger, definitely. Fear? Nerves? Not even when he swung his lightsaber about like a child having a tantrum.

Not even when they were first introduced did Hux feel nerves, for he has never believed in handing so much power over to another person sight unseen. Had Ren proved to be someone to be cautious of, someone to be respected, perhaps things would be different. As it stood, however, Kylo Ren was an unstable menace.

That these fools he unfortunately had to cater to could not see that was ridiculous.

Ren continued to advance, the visitors parting before him, almost falling over each other. Hux does not move, and for a moment it appears as if Ren will not stop his advance. He comes to a stop barely an inch away, close enough that Hux’s breath mists against the lower portions of Rens ridiculous mask. Close enough Hux can feel Ren’s high body heat.

“Lord Ren.” Hux inclines his head slightly, because regardless of how pathetic he usually finds Ren, he’s willing to extend this respect to him whilst in the company of others. Of outsiders. Much as the thought gives him a headache, to everyone not aboard the Finalizer, he and Ren were co-commanders of the flagship. Allies. Ren’s strength is his strength, and vice versa. To showcase their actual, barely functional relationship would be to show weakness, to expose a vulnerable side when they could not afford to.

“General Hux.” The flat voice of the mask gives no hint as to what Ren’s feeling, but the man inclines his head as well. Hux hadn’t been sure the younger man would return the courtesy; perhaps he read the memo Hux sent to him, or listened during the brief conversation they’d had about the upcoming visit. Maybe he’s shuffling through Hux’s thoughts, or maybe Snoke ordered his compliance. Whatever the reason, Hux can only hope that Ren continues to act his age for the rest of this farce of a visit.

Hopefully Ren will simply stay out of the way for the next three standard days, until the simpering fools are off his ship.

“You were missed at the official dinner last night.” A minor miracle had happened, and the dinner had gone perfectly. Rens appearance surely would have precluded some sort of disaster - without even factoring in the fact that he would have had to unmask, in public, to eat. Hux is very, very grateful he didn’t have to deal with the fallout of the ambassadors and their aides seeing Rens face.

If there’s one thing Ren seems unaware of, it’s the effect he has on people. Not as he currently is, shrouded and masked - he knows perfectly the impact of this façade - but his flesh and blood face. Hux hopes to keep it that way for as long as possible. The other man will surely become absolutely impossible to deal with, were he to find out.

“Unfortunately my absence was unavoidable. Apologies for any inconvenience, General.” Hux is almost surprised enough that it shows on his face. Imagine that: Kylo Ren, apologising. Hux inclines his head, wordlessly pardoning Ren. 

Then, they each take a step to the left, perfectly synchronized as though it’s a familiar maneuver. It’s almost like Ren doesn’t regularly bull his way through anyone standing in his path and is, in fact, an adult. Remarkable. His sudden acceptable behaviour was obviously due to the presence of four ambassadors from governments aligned with the First Order and their aides, and it was almost enough for Hux to want them on his ship regularly. Almost.

He’d prefer Ren’s tantrums to politics any day.

He’s proficient at it, of course, he just doesn’t like it. He’s a General, not a Senator, and he wouldn’t trade for all the credits in the system.

And yet, being the commander of the Finalizer has demanded his presence in the political sphere, nevermind the miniscule role he plays. That he has to entertain these fools, has to escort them and dine with them and - in a few days - descend to a planet with them, is ridiculous. And yet, he will do it regardless, because it is his duty and he will not shirk it, no matter how distasteful.

One of the ambassadors, Iagaes, gathers themself enough that they’re able to pretend that they’re unaffected by Rens presence. Thankfully, they are not aware of the temper tantrums he throws, destroying parts of Hux’s ship in the process. Instead they have heard reports of his prowess in battle, his ruthlessness; his mystical powers. They stand in awe, in fear, or that - not the fact that Hux puts up with Ren on a daily basis.

“Will you be joining us tonight, Lord Ren?” They’re to have an informal dinner tonight, Hux and the eight dignitaries on his ship. ‘Casual’, as though every interaction of the night will not be planned out meticulously. Informal, perhaps, as opposed to the formal dinner two nights past, with all members of the Finalizers command staff who were not on duty attending.

“Lord Ren has a very demanding schedule.” Hux demures, lying through his teeth, in a way that suggests to both the dignitaries and to _Ren_ , that the taller man will not be coming.

“A shame.” Vruasehq says, looking as though ze actually think it’s a shame. Then again, no politician is without acting skills.

They part ways shortly after, Ren continuing to stalk down the corridor, Hux returning to the slow meander he has to employ in order to guide the eight intruders on his ship.

 

Ren finds him, later, likely smirking under the helmet.

“Those dreams of galactic domination crumbling under the reality of politics, General?” He taunts. Ridiculous; Hux would not mind politics half so much if he was in charge. As it is, however, he dislikes it immensely.

“I have no idea what you’re speaking of, Ren.” Hux continues to walk towards his rooms, finally free of ambassadors and their aides - one of whom is more annoying than all the rest combined. The casual dinner had gone well enough, giving Hux hope that the next three standard days could pass smoothly. All he wants now is to unwind in his rooms, alone. He tells Ren such but, as usual, it’s ignored.

“You can’t lie to me, Hux.” The voice is flat as always, not quite mechanical, and Hux can’t help but snort. He’s lied to Ren plenty, and they both know it. There’s silence, then, until they reach the door to Hux’s rooms. Hux has stepped inside, but Ren doesn’t follow. The General raises an eyebrow at the taller man, and he’s sure the man’s smirking under his helmet, now.

“I thought you wanted to unwind alone, General?” It’s a toss up whether Hux is going to shut the door in his face, or pull him in by the front of his robes. After a moment's contemplation, one gloved hand reached out and tugs. Ren lets himself be pulled, and closes the door behind him.

The mask comes off quickly, and Hux is gratified to see that he was right. Ren is smirking. Then, mercifully, he puts his mouth to better use and helps Hux to unwind.

 

Of the four ambassadors and four aides, Orrith is undoubtedly the worst. He was conventionally attractive for most human and near-human species, with the usual Shorak identifiers of colourfully dyed hair and tattooed arms proudly displayed by his uniform. Hux may have found him endurable, had it not been for the ridiculous way Orrith tried to ingratiate himself with Hux.

The General had tolerated it, at first.

And then he’d realised that the man wasn’t attempting to garner favour, gain influential connections or advance himself. No, Orrith had spent most of his time annoying Hux because he _desired_ him. It was tedious, having the other man continuously attempt to engage him in conversation about the most trivial of subject matters. Even worse, the more dismissive Hux is, the more intent Orrith seems to become.

Thankfully, it’s the last night the dignitaries will spend aboard the Finalizer. One last informal dinner before Hux escorts them down to Tirith, where he will spend an evening planetside before returning to the Finalizer. The only downside of their absence will be Ren returning to his usual destructive ways, but even that doesn’t seem as onerous as it did before spending days in the company of Orrith. 

Unfortunately, it seems as though the other ambassadors and aides have seen Orrith’s futile plight, and decided to help. If Hux could space each and every one of them, he’d be happy. As it is, they sit down to dinner with him instead, and Orrith is seated to his left, and an empty seat to his right. The broad man looks ridiculously pleased, and all the other dignitaries look smug. Hux regrets leaving a place for Ren in an attempt to make it seem as though the other man were simply too busy to attend the dinners, despite his wishes. 

Hux is preparing himself for an evening of intolerable small talk and flirting he’ll do his best to dissuade, when something even worse than an evening with no choice but to talk to Orrith happens.

The doors slide open, and Ren walks in, quickly taking the vacant seat. The man’s inundated with well wishes from the ambassadors, all of whom eye Ren eagerly. Their contact with the force user has been limited for a reason, and Hux will be severely unimpressed if all his hard work presenting a united, dignified team aboard the Finalizer is undermined because Ren is a petulant child, incapable of civil conversation.

Perhaps they’ll be too taken aback at the sight of his face to listen to anything that he says.

Were it possible, Hux would straighten as an idea came to him, but as his posture is perfect as always, he has no physical reaction to the thought. Perhaps, upon sighting Ren without his mask, Orrith would abandon his pursuit of Hux, and instead set his sights upon Ren. Then Hux could spend a pleasant evening watching Orrith use his wits and wiles in a likely futile attempt to seduce Ren. The General isn’t sure what Ren will do, how he’ll react, and watching the outcome will be highly informative, regardless of the result.

There’s silence as Ren reaches for his helmet, and the pneumatic hiss as he removes it is clearly audible. Surprise is visible on many faces, before it’s quickly hidden. Like Hux, they had likely assumed that there was a reason Ren wore the mask. Perhaps they still think there’s a reason, merely one invisible to the untrained eye. Hux, unfortunately, knows better.

“How nice of you to join us, Lord Ren.” Hux says, inclining his head, smirk curling the corners of his mouth in anticipation.

“General.” He smirks back, before greeting the others at the table, starting with the woman on his right. It sounds as though he’s remembered the names of all their guests, though they met only briefly as the ambassadors disembarked from their shuttle. In the meantime, Hux turns to Orrith, much less reluctant now that the man has surely turned his attention elsewhere.

“I had not expected Lord Ren to join us.” The Shorak says, face and voice inscrutable. Hux nods.

“A pleasant surprise.” He lies, and the other man nods, before his eyes slide away from Hux’s face, looking past him towards Ren.

“Orrith.” Instead of looking pleased by the attention, the aide frowns slightly.

“Lord Ren.” Hux looks between them, feeling as though he’s made a miscalculation somewhere. Not impossible, when it comes to Ren. The man seems to thrive on making Hux’s life more difficult.

“How have you liked the Finalizer?”

“As beautiful as she is, she cannot compare to her General.” Kriffing hell. Apparently, Orrith would not be put off, not even by Ren, with his odd, compelling face.

“Yes, Ambassador Wye told me you’ve taken a liking to the General.” The woman Orrith was aide to sat on Rens other side. It seems she’d wasted no time in attempting to find another person willing to push Hux and Orrith together.

“General Hux has so far been resistant to my considerable charm.” Orrith doesn’t say it like a man who’s ready to accept defeat; he sounds oddly challenging. Great.

“Perhaps you simply aren’t charming.” That’s especially rich, coming from Kylo Ren.

“Perhaps.” Orrith shrugs, grinning, before turning his attention away from Ren and back to Hux.

“I wanted to inquire about your plans, once we reach Tirith.” Hux barely holds back his groan of annoyance.

“I believe most of my time will be occupied.”

“Surely not! Wye has told me that your schedule for tomorrow includes a brief sightseeing opportunity, and it would be a shame to miss such an opportunity, on such a beautiful planet.” Hux had been planning on doing paperwork during that period of scheduled free time. He’s spent most of his life on one ship or another, and as a result finds little to like about being planetside.

To say that he’d rather do almost anything than _sightsee_ on Tirith would be impolitic, however, so Hux does not. Instead,

“I have heard Tirith is quite beautiful.”

“Oh, yes-”

“Hux,” Ren interrupts, “Ambassador Wye just raised an interesting point-”

“Excuse me, Lord Ren, General Hux and-”

“You’re excused, Orrith. As I was saying-” Ren speaks over Orrith again, and this short interaction sets the tone for dinner. The pair constantly interrupt each other, talking over each other to get Hux’s attention so much that the red-haired man barely gets a word in. It’s like sitting between bickering children.

Hux is glad when dinner is finally over, and he can excuse himself.

 

In his rooms, Hux imagined the way his evening would go. He’d relax at his desk, alone, have a drink, alone, before retiring to bed, _alone_. He gets about twenty minutes in, reading through a report Lieutenant Mitaka had sent to him, when someone knocks at his door. He doesn’t have to check to know that it’s Ren - he’s the only person aboard who knocks instead of pressing a button like everyone else. Hux doesn’t get a chance to put down his drink and datapad before Ren’s forced the doors open. They swoosh shut after him, but Hux barely notices, distracted by the careless way Ren throws his helmet to the floor.

He’s stripped off his robes, shirt, undershirt and is kicking off his boots by the time Hux places his things on the desk and stands to undo his uniform jacket, greatcoat already safely in his wardrobe. He had been looking forward to a night of solitude, but if Ren’s offering, Hux isn’t about to say no. And he’s clearly offering. Naked already, whereas Hux has just removed his shirt.

Ren, typically, becomes impatient, hands reaching for Hux, tugging them together. Were anyone to ask, Ren would say that many hands make light work, and he’s only being practical to help Hux with undressing. He’d be lying.

“Impatient.” Hux scolds, before Ren starts to devour his mouth. Two sets of hands don’t, actually, make getting undressed any easier. Instead of Hux stripping quickly and efficiently, he’s got two broad hands sliding up his undershirt, then down the back of his uniform pants, into his underwear. Ren finally does something useful, pulling away and stripping Hux of his undershirt.

“Maybe you’re just slow.” Ren replies, hands tugging at Hux’s belt loops. Hux rolls his eyes, but doesn’t take his time pushing his trousers and pants down and off, thankful that he’d already taken his boots off. Ren seems as though he’d be incapable of waiting for Hux to unlace them, which isn’t unusual. The theme for their trysts seems to be get in, get off, get out.

Ren tugs Hux into the bedroom, and the General allows himself to be pushed down, even obligingly rolls over before Ren gets the satisfaction of making him. Fucking his frustration out on Ren the past few days has only been met with moderate success, tension creeping back into his shoulders as soon as the afterglow has faded, alone once more. Hux isn’t averse to trying again, and again, until his tension is gone or the ambassadors are.

Luckily, Kylo doesn’t mind. He’s quite enjoyed the Generals frustration over the past few days. Additionally, the more frustrated Hux gets about the politicians aboard, the more eager he is to fuck Kylo, or get fucked by him as the case is tonight.

And Hux is eager, tonight. Kylo barely had to say a word, and Hux was underneath him, face down, presenting himself. He knows how this usually goes, knows how they fit together well enough that Kylo could finish this quickly - enjoyably, but quickly. It’d turned into something of a game, seeing how fast they could get the other off, then taunting them about it later. Degrading each other, biting and bruising and hurting. 

He still wants that, still wants to mark Hux and be marked by him, but the impulse is different. Still violent, still lustful, but… Kylo doesn’t know how to explain it, not even to himself. He’s been unsettled since dinner, since that kriffing Shorak _Orrith_. Kylo wants to rip his dyed green hair from his pretty head and strangle him with it. He’d moved closer and closer to Hux with every passing second, and the General hadn’t seemed to notice, or care. Watching him, brushing their arms together as they ate.

Just thinking about it makes his blood boil, violence surging. Luckily, Hux is beneath him, completely willing, and only moans when Kylo bites down, hard, on his shoulder. He doesn’t break the skin, but it’s close. He’ll wear the bruise for days, over a week maybe. He bruises so well, so easily, and Kylo always makes sure he holds on too tight to whatever part of Hux he has hold of. He likes looking at the General, with his crisp, perfect uniform, not a hair out of place, and knowing that underneath he’s black and blue from Kylo.

Looking at Hux and thinking about the hand shaped bruises and bite marks adorning his body underneath his uniform has gotten Kylo through many, many meetings.

And now, after watching that Shorak fawn over Hux all evening, the idea holds more appeal than ever. So he bites his way along the pale skin of Hux’s shoulders, before coming to the junction of Hux’s neck and shoulders. He doesn’t bite down straight away, instead he nips and sucks and licks, while Hux writhes underneath him. Hux’s neck is incredibly sensitive, and listening to him whine is always delightful. Best of all, with Hux’s high uniform collar, Kylo has almost the entire neck to indulge in. It’s a shame that he doesn’t wear a cowl, or have longer hair, because the spot just behind Hux’s ear is equally as sensitive.

The second Kylo so much as breathes on it, however-

“No visible marks.” Hux moans, falling far short of the order he’d likely tried for, but Kylo obeys anyway. One day he won’t, he’ll suck and nip until a vibrant mark blooms, bold and obvious, until everyone knows that Hux belongs to Kylo Ren. He ignores the possessiveness in that statement, knowing even as he thinks it that he’s crossed a line. Quick, vicious, hatefucking, that’s all there is to it - nothing more, no feelings. Instead, he thinks about what Hux would do when Kylo eventually leaves a visible mark.

The thought has him smirking into Hux’s pale skin, before pulling away, enough to see the bruises already blossoming. Kylo leans back down, pressing sloppy, open mouthed kisses down Hux’s back.

“Get on with it.” Hux urges, and Kylo reaches for the lube, slicking his fingers, but he’s not going to follow the trajectory of their previous encounters, not going to prepare Hux as quickly as possible. With sticky fingers, he parts Hux’s cheeks, leans down and licks. The noise Hux makes is indecent, so Kylo does it again. Licking broad stripes across Hux’s arse isn't particularly thrilling, but the General seems completely undone by it, canting his hips back in an attempt to expose more of himself to Kylo.

Impossible, since he’s already spread by Kylos fingers, but the younger man appreciates the enthusiasm, rewards it by pressing his tongue against the tight ring of muscle, licking _in_ and Hux whimpers, throat catching on what sounds like a sob, and Kylo grins. It’s easy enough to press two slick fingers to Hux’s arse, the slow, gradual slide entirely different from the fast paced fingering he usually prefers. He pushes both fingers all the way in, delighting in the visible stretch, and then licks again, around and in between as much as he’s able.

Kylo pauses for a moment, to give Hux time to adjust and catch his breath, but it only takes a few seconds before Hux shifts against his fingers, pressing back. Kylo uses his free hand to still Hux’s hips, asks,

“Did you want something?”

“More.” Hux demands, and Kylo shakes his head, even though Hux can’t see it.

“Ask nicely.” Kylo can practically hear Hux grinding his teeth, mentally tallying a pros and cons list. The taller man decides to give him some incentive to think quicker, and starts to withdraw his fingers.

“Please.” It’s grudging, quiet, but Kylo knows it’s the best he’s going to get. For now. Maybe later, when he has Hux sobbing just from his fingers, Kylo will ask again, get a more sincere answer. In the meantime, Kylo spears his fingers back in, quirks his fingers enough to brush against Hux’s prostate, and doesn’t stop the man when he thrusts back against him.

Between his fingers and his tongue, it’s not long before Hux is close, and Kylo wonders exactly how long he could taunt the other man if he made him come from this. He’ll have to try later, another time, when he’s less desperate to fuck Hux. And he is; listening to Hux moan and whine, watching him squirm and fuck himself on Kylos fingers, on his tongue, has Kylo ridiculously aroused. 

So he pulls away, lets his finger slide from Hux’s slick, stretched arse, and crawls his way back up the bed, presses his chest against Hux’s back. His dick, achingly hard now, is pressed right against Hux’s arse, precome mixing with lube and his own saliva, but he doesn’t thrust in; instead, he waits.

“Ren.” Hux demands, almost immediately, pressing back against where Kylo’s hard against his arse, but Kylo shifts with him, not giving him anything more.

“Did you want something?” There’s a beat of silence.

“Oh, you absolute bastard.” Hux breathes, and Kylo can’t help it, he laughs. Hux turns his head enough that he can lock eyes with Kylo, and glares.

“Something the matter, General?” Kylo taunts, pressing forward slightly, enough that Hux’s eyes flutter for a second, before he pulls back.

“Fuck me or get out.” Hux growls, and Kylo leans forward to nibble at he earlobe.

“Ask me nicely.” While he waits for Hux to answer, Kylo returns to worrying at the dark bruise he’d already produced at the base of Hux’s neck. Hux tilts his head automatically, giving Ren more access, and it’s a pitifully short amount of time before Hux is breathing unsteadily, gasping quietly each time Kylo bites down.

“Alright!” Hux groans, and Kylo lets go of his neck, shifts enough for eye contact.

“Please, Kylo Ren, fuck me.” He clearly intends for it to sound sarcastic, except he’s to aroused for it to be anything but sincere. Kylo knows that he’s going to pay for this later, but he finds he doesn’t particularly care.

He presses his hips forward, slowly, intent on drawing it out, feeling every second of it, when Hux slams his own hips back, impaling himself on Kylo. He’d intended on drawing it out, making Hux beg at least once more, but all of his plans disappear as soon as Hux moans, loudly, at being filled.

Kylo rises to his knees, pulling Hux with him, and places one hand on Hux’s hip, the other on his shoulder over the already bruising teeth marks, and sets a brutal pace. It doesn’t take long before they’re both close, the obscene sound of flesh hitting flesh almost drowned out by Hux, moaning and keeping pace with Kylo as much as possible. Kylo has a bruising grasp on Hux’s hip and shoulder, so he’s not able to move much, barely able to tilt his hips back for a better angle.

Hux gets louder, a sure sign he’s close, and Kylo tightens his grip on Hux’s shoulder, pulls him up until they’re both on their knees, pressed chest to back again. He wraps a hand around Hux’s cock, loose enough for Hux to fuck in time to Kylos thrusts. It doesn’t take long until Hux is coming over his hand, clenching tight around him. Kylo gives him a moment to catch his breath, before pushing him down on all fours, and fucking into his pliant body. He comes a handful of thrusts later, collapsing on top of Hux.

“You’re heavy.” Hux complains, and Kylo heaves a dramatic sigh, before pulling out and rolling away to the opposite side of the bed.

He doesn’t stand to leave immediately, which is odd. Instead, they both lay there, until their breathing evens out. Then Ren sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and heading to the fresher. He emerges a few minutes later, and a cold, wet cloth slaps against Hux’s unsuspecting back. Hux huffs in surprise, doesn’t have to look at Ren to know the smug prick is probably smirking.

Hux reaches contorts in order to reach the washcloth on his back without sitting up, but Ren’s picked it up before he can. The younger man cleans Hux up efficiently, almost clinically, but it’s still odd. Everything about this has been odd, however, so Hux doesn’t think too hard about it, just lets Ren do as he wants.

“Will you be stay on Tirith tomorrow night?” Ren asks, once he’s finished, throwing the cloth in the vague direction of the fresher, before he moves towards his clothes. Hux rolls over, moves until he can press his back against the headboard, watching Ren as he floats his clothes in from the living room.

“Most likely. If they offer a room, I will have no choice but to accept.” Ren nods, pulling his pants up.

“I hear Tirith is beautiful.” The man teases, picking up his undershirt, pulling it over. Despite the oddness of this conversation - of having a conversation at all, at Ren not practically running out the door the moment he’s finished - it’s… pleasant.

“Shut up. You won’t have to deal with the ambassadors and their aides all day. And Orrith. I had hoped...” Hux can’t help his aggravated sigh. Ren raises an eyebrow, and Hux continues.

“I was understandably disappointed when the sight of you, unmasked, did not shift Orrith’s attention.” There’s a curious look on Rens face, briefly obscured as he pulls on his shirt.

“You… like the way my face looks.” He sounds confused, looks confused, standing mostly dressed in the middle of Hux’s bedroom, robes balled up in one hand.

“Don’t be obtuse, Ren. You’re aware of what you look like.” Hux is fucked out enough that the words don’t come out as sharp as he means them to. It’s been a problem, lately, and Hux thinks it might be related to the oddity of this encounter. He’s too tired to think about it, however, so he doesn’t.

“Yes. Are you?” Hux rolls his eyes.

“Obviously, Ren.” There’s a moment of stillness, almost peaceful, before Ren nods once, hastily, and leaves without another word.

 

Tirith is just as Hux had suspected; an annoyance. He has a list of things about a mile long which he needs to do, and instead he’s spent all day caught in small talk and walking through the large gardens of Tirith, Orrith dogging his every step. He’d received a comm moments before the formal dinner; Lieutentant Mitaka informing him that Ren had decided to visit Tirith, as well. As such he’d spent all dinner ridiculously tense, waiting for Ren to burst through the doors and cause a scene.

It doesn’t happen, thankfully, and by the time Hux retires for the night - in a nice set of rooms, ridiculously extravagent and wasteful - he’s tense enough to _want_ Ren to show up, if only so he could use the other man to excise his frustrations.

Hux even thinks that it’s likely, Ren showing up at some point in the night. It seems like something Ren would do, just to annoy Hux. As such, when there’s a knock at the front door to his suite, Hux doesn’t bother to pull on a shirt, just stays in the ridiculously soft sleep pants which had been provided for him. He doesn’t bother to get up and answer the door, either, certain that Ren will barge in uninvited, as he always does.

He does not. Instead, there’s a second knock at the door, but more forceful, and Hux rolls his eyes. He better open the door before Ren breaks it, leaving Hux to explain the hows and whys to their hosts. His walks to the door, feet sinking into the plush carpet, and yanks it open. The caustic words die on his tongue as he sees the man in the doorway.

Not Ren, but Orrith.

And Hux, in nothing but sleep pants, neck and shoulders a mess of clearly visible bite marks, one hand shaped bruise half visible on his hip, above the waistband of the pants.

Orrith pushes past Hux and into the rooms, a scowl on his face as he stalks to where the bedroom is, calming down slightly when he sees it empty. Hux has past the point of annoyance, and is verging on murderous. He might not be the most physically intimidating man, but he’s very, very capable. If Orrith doesn’t explain himself soon, Hux is going to make him talk, and then throw the man out of his rooms.

“Why are you here.” It’s barely a question, but Orrith answers anyway.

“Today, in the gardens, you let me believe that you were amenable to-” Hux cuts him off, aware that he had done no such thing.

“No. Get out.”

“But-”

“Out.” Orrith sighs, deflating, and moves towards the door. Hux is still holding it open, ready to slam it shut behind the man, regardless of the immaturity in the gesture, when a large, dark form fills the space.

“Hux-” Ren greets, taking off his helmet, before he sees Orrith. The helmet drops to the ground, and Hux sighs.

“And Orrith.” He’s still not sure what sparked their rampant dislike, and even though he knows he should stop this before it starts, it’s late enough and Hux is angry enough that he doesn’t really care.

Had Orrith not forced his way into Hux’s room, perhaps he would have intervened. Had Hux known what came next, he probably would have. As it was, he was completely unprepared for Ren to leap forward, the lightsaber flaring to life a moment before slashing across Orrith’s chest. The man makes an ungodly shriek of pain, before Ren reverses his grip and beheads him.

There’s blood all over the carpet and, when Ren turns around, splashed across his face and hair.

For once, Hux is at a loss for words.

“Ridiculous.” Is all he ends up saying, shaking his head. Ren flicks off his lightsaber, reattaches it to his belt, and steps towards Hux.

“Why was he in here?” Ren growls, using the few inches he has on Hux to loom over him.

“Because he wanted to fuck me.”

“I know, but why did you let him in?” With a flash of insight, Hux understands, though it takes him a few minutes to process it.

“Are you… jealous? Did you just cause a political incident because you’re jealous?” Ren truly is useless.

“I…” He trails off, clearly trying to think of a way to explain himself, but Hux doesn’t give him a chance.

“You killed a man out of jealousy.”

“Yes. If you said you fucked, I might kill you too.”

“That is not the start to a healthy relationship.” Regardless of how unhealthy, Hux is almost… flattered. 

“Do you care?” Ren asks, tilting his head to the side. Hux looks at him, blood still dripping down his face, congealing slowly in his hair, and takes a moment to think through the pros and cons.

“Not particularly, surprisngly.” Ren grabs him, then, pulls him into a kiss. There’s too much teeth, and it tastes like Orriths blood, but he doesn’t care overly much. He wouldn’t have had such an extreme reaction but he’s sure he would not have reacted well, if he had found out someone wanted to fuck Ren. If someone were in Rens rooms, and Ren were as disheveled as Hux currently was… 

He wouldn’t have beheaded them with a lazer sword, but it wouldn’t have been pleasant.

Ren starts pulling him towards the bedroom, but Hux stops him. Changes directions until they’re standing in the refresher. He would have said something, but he’s not sure he wants to know Rens opinion on fucking whilst covered in the blood of people he’s killed.

“Strip.” Hux orders, and Ren does as he asks while Hux turns on the shower. It’s not a sonic, thankfully, due to the planets natural resources, and water streams from the tap. He doesn’t even want to contemplate how hard it would be to clean Rens thick mop of blood without water.

Hux strips off his own pants, and pulls Ren under the water. The taller man bends over, giving Hux full access to his hair.

The blood hadn’t fully congealed, so it only takes Hux running his hands through the now completely wet hair for most of it to disappear, water briefly running red, then pink, and then clear once more. Hux keeps carding his fingers through Rens hair, anyway. They’ll have to deal with a corpse once they leave the shower, and the fact that they’re apparently ridiculously possessive of each other - mutual, judging from Hux’s earlier thoughts and the fact that he’s already planning ways to clear Ren of out and out murder, not that the man would care.

If anyone asks, he’ll claim he did it to avoid a political incident.

But, no one’s asking right now, so he keeps running his hands through Rens thick hair, letting the man crowd him against the cold wall of the shower, and press biting kisses to his neck. They stung, especially when bitten into already bruised skin, but it was somehow softer than he was used to. Odd, but good.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like the end was rushed, so hopefully it's okay. The prompt was Hux washing blood out of Kylo Rens hair, and I'm sorry that was only a small part of it.


End file.
